Frustration turned her cheeks a flattering pink while eagerness made her bite her bottom lip. Her eyes always narrowed slightly when something seemed to puzzle her, and her feet bounced nonstop when she was close to finishing something.
Each time their paths had crossed in recent months had been an opportunity to discover something new about her, until he’d found himself lingering a little longer, drawing out each moment until they almost pained him.
Despite their past, she’d always been quick to greet him with a smile, never realizing how such an innocent gesture—or worse, the feel of her skin brushing his—could so easily rattle him.
A fuzzy tingling started in his chest and he glanced down, frowning. What the hell?
A surge of power snapped through his body, an electrical current arcing through him. Spikes of green—the same as when they’d been snatched off the street outside Pendragon’s—filled his vision. The world swayed at the edges, and then he found himself standing in the mansion’s courtyard.
The sun had gone down hours ago, replaced by the glow of the moon that cast shadows across the group of immortals summoned once more without warning. The wolf looked ready to unleash his animal half, but Kel managed to simply look bored. If not for the tensing in the dragon’s sword hand, a subtle gesture Lucan recognized from their years spent training together, Lucan might have assumed he was far more in control than the other gargoyle.
Briana on the other hand… Was she excited? Eyes bright, she rocked on the balls of her feet with barely-contained energy. In place of the subtle aggression that Vaughn and Kel exuded, a hint of excitement hummed on the air around her.
Something was wrong. She couldn’t be looking forward to this, could she?
Careful to keep his scrutiny under the radar, he watched her from the corner of his eye, equally aware that the Fae was doing the same thing to Lucan.
Bran had made himself scarce most of the day, appearing long enough to witness the Korrigan’s dismemberment. Twice after that Lucan had been certain the old one was near, but hadn’t shown himself. The immortal made no effort to hide his own scrutiny.
Lucan returned the Fae’s critical gaze, making it perfectly clear the old one didn’t intimidate him in the least. Bran’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced away.
Message received then.
Lucan shifted his attention back to Briana, unexpectedly comforted by the sight of her in darkness. The night glow brightening her face was familiar, steady—and something he knew better than to rely on to keep him grounded should he lose himself to the monster Rhiannon created, the one stirring restlessly beneath the surface.
He blamed that on the fact that she moved closer to Nessa and Elena, clearly ignoring his advice. Maybe she was reluctant to doubt Nessa, but she couldn’t be foolish enough to trust the sorceress who had cursed and imprisoned Briana’s own brother for over a century.
Elena was no more of an ally than the Fae. She knew the power of Constantine’s daggers and no doubt had a taste for the strong magic she’d inadvertently used to trap Cian.
Lucan could only imagine the lure of Excalibur for an immortal entrenched in magic from birth. Wars between houses of sorcerers were legendary, their constant battles for more power almost as well-known as Morgana’s lust for Camelot.
A bolt of lightning struck the group and sparks chased away the shadows cast by the trees.
“Almost rivals a Vegas show opening,” Elena quipped under her breath.
If Maeve heard or understood her meaning, the goddess gave no indication. “I want to formally thank you all for participating in our games.”
Silence greeted her remark, and she cast her gaze around, eyes tightening at the corners. Apparently she’d been expecting a more enthusiastic response.
“The first competition begins shortly.” She gestured to her brother.
Aren stepped forward. “You are looking for three gems, the Eyes of the Afanc.” He held up a stone three times larger than a marble. The stone gleamed in iridescent shades of blue, then red, and finally black. “When a stone is in close proximity to another, the gem will glow, making it easier to locate the next one.”
Making it easier to track and take them from each other, Lucan silently added. He knew little of the Afanc beyond that Arthur had slain the creature, chaining and dragging the beast from the lake where it had ruthlessly preyed on those foolish enough to wade away from the shoreline.
Maeve picked up where her brother left off. “The competition concludes when all three gems have been located. You will then be returned to the courtyard.” She took the stone from her brother. “There will of course be consequences for anyone who attempts to leave the competition site or contact anyone not directly involved in the game.” She paused. “I should also mention that sections of the site have been manipulated for…entertainment value.”
Manipulated being code for sabotage. Either way, every one of them was at the mercy of gods who’d already proven they viewed their competitors like Mr. Potato Head toys.
Aren grinned. “And be wary of the location’s other treasures. Many have been enchanted and quiet capable of distracting those who lose sight of their objective. Off with you then.” He turned his back on them at the same time Lucan felt himself thrown backward.
He slammed into the ground, his palms sliding across dirt as dark as the surrounding charcoal walls. Accustomed to shadows, he made out the low ceiling and stone walls of an underground corridor. Dampness mingled with the faint smell of saltwater, and in the distance he could hear the muffled thump of water crashing against rocks.
Where was Briana?
Alone in the corridor, he stood. The glow of firelight flickered from the left. Wary of the more welcoming path, he studied the darkness to the right, tempted to go in that direction. His curiosity won in the end, and he went left, hoping the added light would give him a better look at his surroundings.
The tunnel ahead opened up to a wide cavern. The walls had crumbled in places, leaving caved-in debris to block some of the numerous tunnels that led away from the cavern.
Had everyone been dumped into a different corridor?
Listening for any of the others, Lucan walked toward the center of the cavern and the rock formation that appeared to move under the flickering torchlight surrounding the statue—a statue of a young man pulling a sword from a stone.
Tintagel Castle?
Lucan spun around, studying the crumbled walls and spears of light shooting through the occasional gap in the ceiling overhead.
They’d been brought to Tintagel Castle, Arthur’s birthplace?
He couldn’t think of any other place in Avalon or the mortal realm that could have the same statue, one finished just months after Arthur had restored Camelot. Although the last time Lucan had glimpsed the statue, it had sat in the courtyard.
He’d visited Tintagel dozens of times after he and Arthur had become friends, and later when he’d sworn fealty to the lost king. It was within these castle walls he’d drunk from the Grail, becoming one of Arthur’s immortal knights.
Centuries had taken their toll on the structure. Little remained of it above, he knew, a broken shell of a once glorious keep that human tourists flocked to now. Shortly after Arthur’s fall in battle, Tintagel Castle had been cast out from the protective seal of the veil and into the human realm.
Rhiannon might have beaten Arthur’s half-sister to the punch when it came to punishing Arthur’s most loyal followers, but Morgana had done her worst. As soon as she’d seized Camelot for herself, she’d dispatched Mordred’s army to destroy everything Arthur had worked for. Once landmarks, monuments and even peace treaties between warring clans and houses had been eradicated, she’d turned her sights on the childhood home she and Arthur had shared.